


busy corner of my mind

by QueenOfSkaro



Category: Original Work
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform, Slash, Tumblr, Uncomplete, original - Freeform, prompt, science-fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4824311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSkaro/pseuds/QueenOfSkaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes I write something and really don't know if anyone would like it. This will be the place where I put those fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	busy corner of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I write something and really don't know if anyone would like it. This will be the place where I put those fics. 
> 
> They aren't finished, but I'm open to finishing them if there is interest.
> 
>  
> 
> The first one is original set in an alternate universe where it's common knowledge that other worlds exist. I hope it's readable, but as I'm a native german I'm pretty unsure about my english. Feel free to point out mistakes and parts you don't understand.

The cynetic hummed lowly in the background, whirring to life while its handler looked through the files and applications he had to work through that day. He was excited. Maybe he should be careful with phrases like that, but he didn't know what else to call it. Excited sounded right. He was excited. 

It was his first day as a handler, after ten years of school and then two more for the basic training with SYH, one year advancing to found his future and the last three years of preparing himself, he was finally a handler. A quick look showed the static glow of the cynetic and a rush of emotions curled through his body. He was allowed to think about it, Echo decided, because he would know if they were able to look into his head. Nothing big stayed a secret for long at SYH. He just had to make sure that no one saw him out-of-state. That would raise questions and questions raised trouble and he had studied too hard to be thanked-off.

His eyes returned to the first folder on his shedule. Martin Reyes, 38. Never took greens, nor yellows. Stay at the hospital when he was 23, two weeks of reds and half a year of purple but he was within timeframe, no violation. Lost his daughter nine months ago, applied within two weeks for replacement and met all the necessary terms. This would be his first patron, one of many more and he couldn't wait to start. 

A knock sounded and he schooled his features, just to be careful and called enter. The man entering matched the photo he had and Echo rose, smoothed his white button-down shirt in a fluid motion and stepped forward.  
"Mister Reyes. On point. Step forward, we will begin at once." The monotone of his voice was carefully practiced and sometimes he asked himself if it was that way for everyone. No one told him and he would not risk it to ask, but before he started his preparation he always assumed that the greens would take care of it. They were supposed to skim him from his emotions over a timeframe of two years, but even after three he was still able to connect back to his none-side, the place where his feelings were stored until he decided to stop taking his greens, which was ridiculous and unheard of, because if he stopped taking them he would have to stop being a handler and no one in their right mind would decide something stupid like that.

"Is she here?", the father asked, almost vibrating with the emotions and chemical reactions he had rolling around his body and mind and Echo allowed himself to purse his lips, showing a minimal sign of his disgust about all that uncontrolled commotion. He never understood the want to keep their feelings the low-ones had and he certainly never shared it. Without emotions he wasn't worse off than them, even though they liked to make everyone believe it to be true. It was more the opposite, because it allowed him to work the most fascinating job to find in DA.1, or Daion, like everyone besides the handler and their superiors called their version of earth. It stood for the time their reality forked off to form its own, their world as they knew it and it was the first to claim a change in the Dark Age. Echo could preach every name, every fork known to DA.1. He learned it in his training and from now on he would live it too.

"We will retrieve her.", he said, stepping around the man to the cynetic and tapped on the panel at its side. The whirring got louder. "We contracted fourty-three worlds, until we found one where her parents are dead. She was informed and agreed to overstep. You got your orders and guidelines to living with an alternate. If you encounter problems you are free to contact our support." The last key was hit and the surface rippled. Echo stared and started to feel again and he couldn't stop, didn't want to, because maybe he saw it a dozen times before in his training and then another two in his preparation, but this was the first time he did it himself. 

The surface curved inward and, as it came back out, the outline of a little body could be seen. A sob rang through the room and the handler curled his lips, just for a second and then there was a small girl standing in the plain white room with them, holding a backpack to her chest as if it could protect her from possible evil. Which, alright, was entirely in the realm of possibility, seeing as there were worlds you didn't want to overstep to, where the fork ruined every kind of useful and valuable future, but SYH tried to keep the contact to them to a minimum. 

As Echo closed the cynetic off father and daughter were hugging and sobbing into each other and the disgust was replaced by something low, something warm and he shut it off and shoved it to his none-side, because that wasn't the kind of emotion he was after, greens or not. He liked the loud things, the feeling that came crushing through him and left him internally trembling. The thrilling emotions one got when the brain was pumped with adrenaline and dopamine. Not this. This was boring and he wouldn't risk being thanked-off for something boring.

"Thank you. By means and measures, I thank you.", Mister Reyes breathed, his eight-year-old sitting on his hip now, thin fingers clawing into the lapels of her fathers jacket, eyes screwed shut tight and tears streaking down her cheeks.  
"You know the way out.", was his answer and he waited until he was alone again to go back to his desk, filing the first folder away and opening the second. Connor Jones, 23. Caught two times under the influence of blue, but never had any on his person. Sentenced to one weekend on yellow, spend helping inside a house for old. He got off easy, Echo thought, two days being pliable was nothing against the crime of enhancing and strengthening feelings and sensations. He applied the third time to meet his alternate self and it got granted again against a fee.

The door opened without a knock and annoyance rose in the twenty-two-year old, coloring his cheeks rosy and even though he clamped it down, it denied being shoved aside. He didn't have time to wrestle it, so he let it be for the moment, even though he wasn't sure what to think of that and as he rose he eyed the intruder up. Mister Jones was something to look at, that was for sure and for a moment he was tempted to overlook his rudeness, but then the man started to speak.  
"Well, aren't you a cutie? Way better than my last handler. Fuck, you could handle me anytime. I'll sure as fuck can make you feel again.", he leered, arrogant grin on his face and his hip cocked sideways and Echos annoyance started to rear its head. He stepped around his desk to the cynetic.

"This is your third visit and, as requested, we found you a different version of yourself as the last two times. You got your orders and guidelines to spend time with an alternate. You were granted twenty four hours. If you encounter problems you are free to contact our support."  
"Always this uptight, are you? Trust me, five minutes with me and you'd never want to button up again."  
"Mind the limits."  
"Yes, yes. Always limits with you greenies. You're no fun. Back to something better. Me. Where is this one from? Don't say he's an Aran. They are all fucking idiots."

Aran, residents of AR.3-10, Arathren. Fork dated back to Ancient Rome. He hated to say it, but Mister Jones was right. Most of them were idiots. At least every single one he ever encountered. Unless asked specifically he would never be mean enough to look for an alternate there. Maybe with someone he thought deserved it.  
"No, Mister Jones. Your alternate originates from Veighten.", Echo answered. VE.810. Forked in the Victorian Era. Residents are called Venna. The surface started to curve.  
"Great. Maybe this one knows how to have some fun."

The surface gave way to someone who only vaguely reminded of the Connor Jones from Daion. He had outgrown dark hair, unlike a shaven head. Sneakers instead of polished leather. Blue shirt with uprolled sleeves and the top buttons undone, not the pastel-colored poloshirt the Dain wore.  
"Afternoon. I'm Con. This was way funnier in my head.", the Venna said and Echo snapped himself out of it to shut off the cynetic.  
"I'll show you some fun the second we get outta here, dude, don't worry. Gonna party tonight. Maybe after a little visit to Supercut.", the Dain said, laughing loudly and it was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, no, I don't think we will. And don't call me dude, I'm not your 'dude'. Only thing I am right now is mortified."  
"What the fuck do you mean with that, huh? I didn't pay a fuckload of money to get a freak like you tellin' me what to do, so get the fuck on with it, we gonna hit the road."  
"Pretty sure I'm not the only one eager to see you getting hit with something."

"I suggest taking this elsewhere, Mister Jones, Mister Jones. You have twenty four hours to fight this out. Somewhere else.", Echo threw in, because he could see a vein pulsing in the Dains neck and even though he wasn't a specialist he was sure that it couldn't mean anything good, so he intervened. It wasn't his business and he wasn't interested in the outcome - except he was - and he had another patron due in ten minutes, so they needed to go. The workplace of a handler wasn't the place for emotional outbursts.

His interference served to swivel their attention to him, however, and the shorthaired Mister Jones took two quick steps in his direction.  
"You! It's your fucking job to get me someone who isn't a fucking dickhead.", he spit out and took another step, but the Venna was there then and threw the handler a quick look over his shoulder.  
"You wanted an alternate of yourself, wasn't that right, Mister Jones?", Echo asked, doing his best to maintain his monotone through all the annoyance and the buzzing under his skin he got whenever someone was fighting in his vicinity. It was like his body wanted to fight too, but he was used to taming it. He did that all his life. 

A booming laugh startled him with its loudness and the ability to fill the entire room and he looked to the Venna who had his head thrown back, shocked by all the emotions he could practically feel flying around the room. He couldn't clamp it down now, because this was exciting and new and even under the low-ones he never encountered someone who was so out-of-state, full to the brink with feelings Echo couldn't fathom and he started to feel out-of-state too. He had to get a grip.  
"You're a cheeky one, aren't you. What's your name?", he asked, still grinning wide enough to count teeth, green eyes twinkling with mirth and the handler never had such a hard time to control himself. This wasn't right. What his brain did to him wasn't right. He needed to calm down, before he got thanked-off.

"Don't bother with the damn greenie, he's cold as a fish. Now get the fuck back where you come from, because I won't have a fuck up like you walk around with my name in my world.", Connor Jones growled out, hit the nearest wall and then rushed out the door, still yelling. He left the others in a minute of awkward silence.  
"Well. Glad to know I'm an asshole in another world. So, what did he mean? What's a greenie and what was he talking about with the fishs? From where I stand you look pretty hot actually."

Echo threw him a dull look, tired and drained because the emotions were still coursing through him and it left him wondering if this was what the criminals felt like when they were forced to swallow the yellow pills that made them pliable and easy to form. He found himself answering honestly.  
"They call us greenies because we take a green pill daily, to curb and close off our emotions. It is mostly just us handler, the people working with the cynetic, the portal you came through, to help with our jobs and ensure impartiality."

The answering look he recieved was purely disbelieving.  
"Why? Why would anyone want to do that?"  
It was enough to wake the twenty two year old of his little trance and he straightened his shoulders, smoothed his shirt out - even if it wasn't wrinkled and coincidentally he could wipe his suddenly sweaty hands on it - and channelled all his willpower into controlling his feelings, battling them down and shoving them into the furthest corner of his mind. Not his none-side, they struggled and resisted too much to bother with that right now, but at least they weren't on the forefront of his mind anymore. 

"What happened is certainly inconvenient. Please accept SYHs apologies and refrain from any form of resistance concerning your transport back home.", the handler recited professionally and stepped around Mister Jones to the sidepanel of the cynetic.  
"What? No. I won't go back, I got granted twenty four hours, wasn't I?", Jones said, taking Echo by the elbow to keep him from programming the cynetic.  
"You did not. Mister Jones applied for an alternate and seeing as he is gone now you are obligated to go too."  
"But I am Mister Jones. Con, for you."

Echo hesitated a little, unsure how to procede now, because, technically, Mister Jones - the Venna - Con was right. The permit was written out in his name and nowhere in the forms was specified which world Mister Jones had to originate. Technically it wasn't against the rules, but it still felt off. Like it was too big to grab and he would surely regret it if he didn't shove the other through the cynetic.  
"Come on, you think I'll ever get another chance at this? I'm not wealthy enough to just order the government to let me go exploring. The second the request landed on my lap I jumped at it. Yeah, not so clever to insult him, but otherwise I'd probably be arrested for manslaughter right about now and curiousity for other worlds aside, I'm not interested to see your jails."

The chuckle was out before the handler even realized that he was amused by the tall man still holding him in place and horrified he realized what he did. He chuckled. Out loud, not just in his head or hypotethically or when he was alone. 

Someone heard.

"Alright, I don't quite understand that look on your face, but I'll make you a deal. I forget the last minute, whatever the hell happened in it, because I sure as hell might with all the understanding I got for it and you let me go out. I promise to be back in twentyfour hours and no one needs to know, right? We got a deal, gorgeous?", the Venna seized his chance and with all the due horror for a situation like this Echo shook the others outstretched hand without a second thought.

"Twentyfour hours! Promise you will be back here in exactly twentyfour hours to overstep to your world.", he stressed, not even pausing to think that he didn't know this man and a promise shouldn't mean much. But it did, he knew that, even though he didn't know how he knew. His hand got squeezed tightly and Con grinned that grin again, that one were half his face was blindingly white and happy and Echo didn't know where to put all the emotions it woke in him.

"Promise." And, just to make sure the other didn't change his mind and called the authorities he was out the door right away.

The knock came not even a minute later and he called them in on autopilot, looked through their folder and programmed the cynetic. He was sure going to be thanked-off for this. His secret was out in the open and he let a Venna leave the room unsupervised. The second his superiors heard of it - oh by means and measures, the second his father heard of it! Echo always found it extremely fascinating how that man could be so detached, yet still have place in his mind for enough disappointment to last an entire childhood. He watched the patron and his alternate divorced wife leave the room and took a deep breath. What's done is done. He could only hope that the given promise meant anything and continue to work. He couldn't believe he already butchered it on his very first day out of training.

Vin Damkin, Cora O'Neil and Genna di Marco looked quiet content with their alternates - Mister di Marco especially with one Genna in each arm - and the handler decided that he worked enough to warrant a lunch break. His thoughts always came back to Con - Mister Jones - the Venna - and he had a hard time keeping up his charade of the monotone, non-feeling handler that he should be. He made sure that he got the time before his next appointment and then left his workplace, locked the door and walked through the corridors, straight-backed and straight-faced, until he left the building through the main doors, tall and imposing like the rest of the SYH headquarters. To him it looked cold and dead and intimidating right now and he couldn't leave it behind him soon enough. Over the townsquare directly infront of it, across a street and down a block and he came to the only cosy place near enough to still make it back on time, after a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. It wasn't the healthiest lunch, but it wasn't a normal morning either and he thought he earned it.

One bite was all he got before his little illusion of peace got destroyed by the object of his affection - frustration, that was the word he meant and even that was bad enough, because he shouldn't be able to feel frustrated.  
"So, I snooped around a little and it's basically like my world. Just without Harry Potter. Seriously, how the hell is that even possible? I browsed a bookstore and was surprised not to find it in, like, the first ten seconds and I asked and the clerk typed it in and said that they didn't have any books by an author of that name. And I just walked out, because the alternative would have been to have a mental breakdown, I mean, how the hell can't you know who Harry Potter is?", Con rambled, looking every bit as agitated as he sounded.  
"Who?", the younger asked, watching numbly as his cake got abducted and shoveled into the others mouth, pausing in his rant for the thirty seconds it took to inhale it.

"That's what I mean. Where I come from the books form an entire generation. There is practically no one in the whole world who hasn't heard of it. It's cult and classic and I probably shouldn't be this invested at my age, but fuck, it's a culture shock. I was expecting robot dogs and people living in beehives but this is just too much."  
"Bees are extinct since almost seventy-five years.", was all Echo could think to answer and it made his company pause.  
"Pretty sure I saw flowers and trees and shit."  
"Of course. They are human-worked. Mostly low-ones take that job because even though its exhausting, there's not much you need to learn for it. Not much training required before they can start earning money."  
"Low-ones? That just sounds mean. And what are you called?"  
"Echo.", the handler said confused, blinking slowly, trying to pass over the fact that he didn't understand why low-ones sounded mean and why Con sounded so exasperated saying it.  
"What, you people call yourself echo? It doesn't even sound remotely simular, why would it - oh. Oh! You are called Echo!"

A slow nod, another even slower blink and he was sure that this break would leave him more exhausted than rested, but he couldn't quell his own curiousity.  
"What is it like in your world?", he asked without thinking about it, took a sip of his coffee and watched the tall man across from him. He was handsome, now more so than at his workplace earlier. His hair was out of order, as if he pulled it repeatedly, half out of the little bun on the back of his head. His green eyes alight with life and his lips full of chocolate crumbs, a few of them on his blue shirt too and Echo ached to - but that wasn't right, he was a greenie, he didn't ache and he didn't have urges and least of all for an alternate thats going to be gone come morning. Not even when they smiled like that again.

"Echo. Sorry. But at least I got your name now.", Con grinned, waving the waiter over and ordering another two pieces of chocolate cake. The handler was pretty sure that he was going to pay for them, seeing as the others money wouldn't be worth anything in Daion. He came to terms with the fact that he wouldn't get to know anything about Veighten he didn't already know, but Con started to speak again once the waiter was gone.  
"Like I said, it's a lot like this. Well, I thought so at least. Not so sure anymore, even though it looks alike. Firstly, of course, Harry Potter. Seriously. Second, we still got bees. And they do bee-work and no human low-life, or low-one or whatever takes its job away because we fucking try to keep them from dying out. And there isn't any pill to delete our emotions, not that I know of and I'm sure it would be general knowledge if there was a horde of brain dead zombies running around."  
"I'm not brain dead, I'm still very capable of thinking, with or without the greens. And they don't delete our emotions, they just keep them on our none-side, so we avoid the risk of getting out-of-state."

Maybe Echo was a little miffed, even though he really tried to shove that feeling away, because it was boring and degrading and he had felt enough for one day, but he kept his indifferent mask and monotone voice.  
"Yeah, alright, I'm not even sure what that means. What's a none-side and why would you get what?"  
"Our none-side. The place of our brain we don't require to be productive, where we keep all our feelings stored until a further point of time. And out-of-state is - How can you not know what it means? It's like - uncontrolled. Overly emotional. Like you."  
"Like me? I'm perfectly controlled."  
"You are not. You are - all over the place. Like you bursted and filled every crevice. That's not - usual. Out-of-state normally means excited. Or upset. Emotions in general are hard to control and it's easy to lose what little control we have over it. Where you come from - is everyone like you? So full of - everything?"

It wasn't normal to be so fascinated about that particular topic and if anyone happened to listen to them Echo would be in trouble.  
"All over the place, huh? And if I filled every crevice - "  
"Don't even say it.", the handler said, accompanied by a swift kick to the others shin. It barely got him a grunt before he was all smiles again.  
"There, there. Wouldn't want to get out-of-state.", the Venna teased, but it quickly sucked the humor out of the younger and he straightened his back again, repaired his indifferent mask and tamped down any leftover affection he might have been unable to shove onto his none-side. Cons eyes narrowed.  
"Why do you always do this? What is the worst thing that could happen, huh? Seriously. Everyone else here laughs and smiles without a care in the world."  
"I could be thanked-off."

Horror was written plainly on the mans face and he continued in a hurried whisper.  
"They'd kill you for smiling? What the fuck kind of world is this?"  
Confusion and humor and affection raced through him again and he found himself amused, enough that he almost chuckled again, but able to clamp it down at the last second.  
"No one kills anyone. But I would lose my job."

~~~~

Sitting back again Con frowned, took a bite of his cake and examined Echo. It was obvious that he couldn't comprehend why anyone would lose his job because of something like that and it was almost as if the younger could grasp his confusion and it was hard, unfamiliar to think of emotions like something so tangible. That kind of things were always, always, mostly theoretical, even before the greens, because he grew up with his father and that was a lesson for life. He never got explained what that thing was that glowed warm and soft in his chest, that man never told him about happiness or sadness or pity or panic or anything like that. And Echo had tried to make his own experiences before the greens, because he knew that he wouldn't get a chance after - or, that was what he thought at least - and he didn't want to miss something later. Missing something could only lead to trouble. So he tried to make friends, and laugh and cry with them and he tried to fall in love and leave them and get left behind. He wanted, needed, so desperately to know for sure how it felt like and he never questioned it, until know. 

What need did he have to experience anything like that if not to recognize it when the time was right? And then -

Con laughed.

His laugh was booming and loud and Echo got the irrational urge to cover his ears, but he didn't dare to in fear to miss even a second of it. His father would be disgusted with him, if he were able to feel anything like that. 

"Why are laughing?", he asked instead, mostly to distract himself from his thoughts and his reaction. He was in some kind of bad dream, because this right here was probably the worst-worst scenario he could have thought of - ever.

"I laugh because - do you even realize what you said? They force you to stop smiling, to have fun, to feel anything at all, just to keep your job. Thats insane. It's stupid and you shouldn't work into their favour.", Con said with such conviction that it was almost impossible not to believe him and do as he said. But Echo was always different and, even if he didn't exactly want to disagree, he felt the need to do it. It was the way he was brought up, something he couldn't just shake off, even if he, maybe, did want to.

"It's the way it is. You shouldn't laugh about it. It's important what we do.", he snapped, a little miffed, because maybe Con laughed about all of SYH, but it was Echo sitting in front of him, not any of the others. And it was Echos job, his obligation, to feel put off.

"Whatever you say, man. Can't see the important part of bringing two people together to party, but, whatever you want to believe.", Con answered flippantly and with that statement he broke down everything Echo lived and worked to learn, all of his life and the handler couldn't bring himself to stay still. He stood up and took a deep breath.  
"It's not any of your business, but I feel the need to inform you that just this morning a father got his formerly dead daughter back. Or, to speak for the child, she got a long lost father back to care for her.", he spoke, making sure to stay monotone. Echo didn't want to waste any feelings to someone who thought that it was alright to make fun of someone, who thought that it was okay to tell another that what they believed their whole life was unimportant and, judging from the shocked, hesitant look on the alternates face it was pretty obvious what he wanted to say. Not wanting to stay any longer in the others presence, he left the cafe nimbly and made his way through the daily traffic back to SYH.


End file.
